


Doctor Doom's guide to lab safety

by laireshi



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Emotional Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is way too tired to keep working. Luckily, he has Victor to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Doom's guide to lab safety

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Comicsohwhyohwhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicsohwhyohwhy/gifts).



> This is Doom/Tony established relationship. I headcanon that it's a scene from their future after [my plotty doomtony fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6088009), but it's definitely not necessary to read that first.
> 
> This is fluff without plot, because fluff is good.
> 
> Thanks for beta to [runningondreams](http://archiveofourown.org/users/runningondreams) :)

The door to the workshop opened and Tony looked over his shoulder. He smiled, almost unwillingly. He was exhausted, but the sight of Victor never failed to make him happier.

“I'm here,” he called, and turned back to his screens. He could break the code, he knew it. If only . . .

“Still working?” Victor sounded worried. He put his hands on Tony's arms and Tony leant into him instinctively. Victor was warm and safe, and . . .

Tony chuckled to himself. He'd given Victor the codes to his workshop pretty early on—the man could've teleported in any time, but this had been the deal. _You can get in, but no magic where I work_. So far, the decision had proved to be one of his best. And he no longer minded magic all that much. The things you do for love, apparently.

Even that thought wasn't as scary anymore.

“Okay, Anthony,” Victor said in a low voice, as if he was afraid Tony had a headache. “You're laughing, looking at the Extremis code. I think it's time to go to bed.”

Tony shook himself. “I just remembered how I gave you the codes. It's so obvious that you have them now.”

Tony heard the smile in Victor's voice. “It makes me happy that you think so, but you really need to sleep. How long have you been up?”

Victor could get just as hooked up in his magical research, Tony thought. But then, it was true Victor knew when to take a break.

“It's not important,” Tony said. “I can crack it, I know I can—you know I _have to do it_.”

Victor didn't understand guilt, but he did understand making up for past sins. 

And what Tony had done in San Francisco . . .

Suddenly, Victor spun Tony around, to face him. _No more rolling chairs_ , Tony thought briefly.

Victor leant over him, so their eyes were on one level. He looked serious. “Your health _is_ of great importance to me, Anthony,” he said, and then he sighed. “And while I know why you're so stubborn about fixing the Extremis virus side-effects in San Francisco, I also have to repeat you are not to blame in that situation.”

“Victor—”

Victor kissed him, briefly, and Tony shut up, as must've been Victor's goal. Tony _was_ tired, that was true. “Even I have to admit that you're a genius,” Victor continued, “so you will figure it out. Right now, however, I am not sure you if can see the difference between static and dynamic linking.”

Tony frowned. That was easy. Extremis wasn't just a strictly compiled language, it had some interpreted parts, and it mixed both types . . . 

“You do realise that normally you'd recite the differences without stopping for breaths, and then rant for another fifteen minute about how it made coding difficult for you?” Victor asked pleasantly, waking Tony from his day-dream about variables. 

“Touché,” Tony said. So maybe he was tired, but . . . He glanced in the direction of the screens. He had to figure it out. He couldn't waste time . . .

“You're not letting anyone down by actually taking care of yourself for once,” Victor said. “I _am_ very glad that you're still here, but honestly, with the way you overwork yourself, I have no idea how you didn't get yourself killed years ago.”

“It wasn't for a lack of trying,” Tony muttered, and Victor froze.

“ _Tony_ ,” he said softly.

Tony shook his head. “We're not having this conversation,” he said. “You're right, I'm exhausted, let's go to bed.”

Anything to get them back to where things weren't suddenly awkward, and okay, if he'd said _that_ aloud, he really wasn't in any form to continue his work. “Friday, save today's results,” Tony called and stood up.

He almost swayed on his feet, but Victor was there, supporting him. He still seemed tense. “You're avoiding—”

“Yes, I am,” Tony agreed quickly. “Weren't you worried about me overworking? Because I really think I need to rest.”

“I might get worried you're a Skrull,” Victor said, but it didn't sound like a joke. It didn't sound like much of anything.

Still, Victor's hands were soft on Tony's back and shoulder as he led him to their bedroom, and then as he carefully peeled Tony out of his clothes.

Tony moved to the bed, but Victor caught him by his hand, still gently, and steered him to the bathroom instead. “Shower, dear,” he said.

Tony sniffed at himself. Okay, Victor might've had a point.

Tony managed to stay upright just long enough to lather himself and wash it off, and he felt a bit more human, but no less tired when he stumbled out of the shower. Victor was waiting for him with a warm towel.

Then he walked to stand behind Tony as if to wrap him in the towel, but he didn't move further. Tony couldn't see Victor's expression when he said, “You know you don't need to hide from Doo—from me.” He sounded uncertain. It was weird. Tony wasn't sure—

It was about the lab and how Tony couldn't keep his mouth shut. Of course. 

He turned around to see Victor, embraced him and pulled him closer to himself. If Victor minded getting wet, he didn't say anything. “I don't hide from you,” Tony promised. “But it's not something I like to talk about even when I'm not this tired.” Even explaining it was hard, now.

“I believe you,” Victor said, finally.

Tony wondered about the errors he could've made while coding in this state, almost the same as if he was drunk, and hated it. Hated himself.

It was good Victor came to pick him up from the lab.

“Thank you,” Tony said quietly.

Victor must've understood there was more to it, but he just nodded. Then he finally helped Tony dry himself off, and gave him his pyjamas—well. Even exhausted as it was, Tony knew the green-gray set wasn't his own. He just smiled though, and put them on.

Tony sat on the bed, moving the blankets aside. He knew he was crashing already, but he reached for Victor's hand, grabbed it tight. Victor's expression turned soft, almost unguarded for a moment. He pulled the blankets over Tony with his other hand and probably a big of magic, leant down to kiss Tony on his cheek.

“Stay,” Tony said, and it shouldn't need saying, they'd been sleeping together for months—but Tony wasn't even sure what time it was now, maybe middle of the day, Victor must have better things to do . . . 

“Always,” Victor murmured. “Just a second,” he whispered, extricating his hand from Tony's. He walked around the bed to the other side and lay on top of the covers, but close enough that Tony could hold his arm, rest his forehead against it.

“Sleep well, Tony,” Victor said, and Tony was out the moment he closed his eyes.


End file.
